Lyrics

The Battle of the Leaves

He fought a battle against the leaves,
The last, least symbol of summer;
Trailing the yard with a box in hand,
Plucking them from the ground,
They were to him like notices of his own dying.
He fought them, he cursed them,
And excommunicated them from his yard.

During the last days of fall
We would find him up in the trees,
Broom in hand,
Forcing them down with all his might,
Striking the limbs till they gave up their dead,
His yard finally become a great green land,
The brown minions defeated,
Banished till next year.